


Ex libris Bookman

by tennisnotensai



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, M/M, POV Outsider, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennisnotensai/pseuds/tennisnotensai
Summary: No additional reports of Innocence and akuma sightings have been reported. Everything appeared to be all right with the world, at least for now.
Relationships: Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker, Lavi/Lenalee Lee, mentions of Marie/Miranda
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Ex libris Bookman

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** no beta, OOCness, English is not my first language, inconsistent tenses, i am very bad at prepositions, alcohol-drinking
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** This was an old draft from January 2019 that I wanted to finish no matter how bad it turned out to be ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_In an alternate beginning to the 20 th century..._

Lawrence sidestepped a puddle, but his efforts to remain dry all went for naught when children ran past him, splattering him with mud and last night’s rain. He balanced the overflowing bags of food in his arms as he reprimanded the children, and all he got in response were laughter and good-natured calls of “Pirate Lawrence! Pirate Lawrence!”

On account of his eyepatch, the village children have taken to calling him a pirate, and even indulged them sometimes, chasing them around with a tiny fishhook as he growled. He knew he didn’t look menacing, but he enjoyed playing with the children nonetheless. It distracted him from the tedium of post-war life.

He sighed. The splatters on his clothes were noticeable, but he was sure his guests wouldn’t mind. After all, they have seen him in worse states before; against torn and bloodstained clothes, puddle splatters were certainly preferable.

He passed by the bakery and, even though he was already carrying an armful of bags, entered it, knowing one of his friends will appreciate it. Even after all these years, one of his comrades retained his sweet tooth and appetite.

They thought their Innocence would vanish when the war ended, but they were wrong. God’s fragments still lived among men and stray demons still lurked in dark crevices, although no more of them came into existence. The last time Lawrence had heard of an akuma sighting was six years ago, in Vienna, Austria, where two of his former comrades currently resided.

He opened the door and the bell above it jingled, causing the baker—Mr Hadrian Blackwater—to look up from wiping the counter.

“Good morning, Lawrence,” Hadrian greeted, and, upon spotting his baggage, added, “You expecting some guests?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Have you got any sweetmeats?”

==

After fetching his guests from the train station, Lawrence led them to the inn they would be staying at; the house he shared with his wife was just enough for two. The house was a gift from his wife’s older brother. Lawrence had no doubt his brother-in-law didn’t think about future nephews and nieces when he gave them the house, especially when he was so reluctant to give his little sister away.

He spotted Mrs Gwen Melborn sweeping the front of the inn; the ground was now dry and the dirt had returned. Her children were chasing each other, and upon seeing Lawrence, they cried, “Pirate Lawrence! Pirate Lawrence!”

Mrs Melborn looked up, giving Lawrence an apologetic smile, and then called her children’s attention. “Mercy! Sterling! Run along now to the bakery and fetch me those loaves of bread. If you’re good, Uncle Hadrian might give you sweets.”

“Yes, Mother!” her children cried as they dashed away, their tinkling laughter fading.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry about that. You know how those kids are.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs Melborn,” Lawrence replied.

“How about you come inside for a cuppa? I have a plate of pie cooling.” She eyed his companions and noticed their suitcases. “I’m assuming these are my new guests. Please come inside and have a slice of pie? Oh, maybe we should call Lenore too.”

“We’d love to,” Lawrence said, “but my wife is waiting for us at home and busy preparing the meal for our friends. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow? It’s a new recipe and I could use feedback before putting it on the menu.”

He slung an arm around one of his friend’s—the shorter one with the reddish-brown hair—shoulder, saying, “This gentleman here will eat whatever you serve him. Friends, this is Mrs Gwen Melborn, proprietress of the The Rose and The Thorn.”

“I’m Wilfred Campbell, but everyone calls me ‘Red,’” his friend said, tipping his hat.

 _Certainly not everyone_ , Lawrence thought. He could name at least one person who insisted on calling Red “bean sprout,” even though his hair had been dyed to resemble its original colour.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Mr Red Campbell,” Gwen replied. “And what about your other friend? Will she come too?”

Lawrence and Red chuckled, and his other friend gritted his teeth and turned away.

“Oh, my, I’m sorry, ma’am, did I make you angry?” Gwen asked, bringing a hand to her mouth. “I—I didn’t mean anything by it! I was just—”

“It’s okay,” Red said. “ _He_ just lost a bet.”

At the mention of “he,” Gwen’s face paled, and although her hand was already covering her mouth, her gasp was still audible. “Oh, heavens! I am ever so sorry! You must believe me, sir, I didn’t mean—”

“No harm done, madam,” Red said. “Hugh here is used to it. He’s more irritated because he now owes me a sovereign.”

“But I really am sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Hugh said in a deep voice that was not feminine at all. “Where are our rooms?”

“Oh, just right here—”

“I’m apologising in advance, Gwen,” Lawrence said. “Hugh’s manners aren’t the best. That’s why Red always keeps him in check.”

Hugh scowled, but before he could say anything, Lawrence pushed him inside The Rose and the Thorn, saying, “Lead the way, Gwen.”

The proprietress showed her new guests their room, and Lawrence towed along in case there would be some tension he needed to defuse. It wasn’t a large room, but it wasn’t small too; it was just the right size for two sets of single beds, tables, and chairs.

Lawrence had no doubt that come night-time, those beds would be pushed next to each other to form one double bed, or maybe Red would crawl into Hugh’s small bed and drape himself over him.

After Red and Hugh set their things down, they exited the tavern-cum-inn, and headed towards Lawrence and Lenore’s house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gwen,” Lawrence said. “And I’ll bring Lenore.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lawrence,” Gwen said.

==

The moment he stepped through his door, he stopped being Lawrence Bard and returned to being Lavi Bookman Jr. He spotted his wife Lenalee—his actual wife whom he loved, because their marriage wasn’t a cover story—setting the table up.

“Allen, Kanda! Welcome!” she said, abandoning her work to engulf her friends in a hug. “Oh, I haven’t seen you two in so long! How has life been?”

“Pretty peaceful, if you don’t count my daily shouting matches with this guy,” Allen replied, giving Lenalee a kiss on the cheek.

Kanda grunted, reluctantly accepting a kiss on his cheek from Lenalee.

“Seriously,” Lenalee said, “you two are grown men. When will you ever stop fighting?”

Kanda scowled, as if the thought of not arguing with Allen was absurd. And Lavi took comfort in that thought; the one immutable thing about Allen and Kanda was they would never stop bickering like five-year-olds.

“Now, now, we’ve got plenty of time to catch up while eating,” Lavi said, “so what say you we start our dinner?”

\--

Contrary to what Lavi had predicted, Allen and Kanda only attempted to kill each other twice. Being companions in the post-war life had surely mellowed them out, although there was no shortage of insults flung out.

Lavi could remember the beginnings of their companionship. The most surprising thing about it was that Kanda wasn’t the one who needed the fortress he had built around him broken down—it was Allen, and Kanda had been the one to coax him out of it.

Looking back to the tumultuous and precarious beginning of his friends’ relationship to the domestic comfort they were enjoying now, Lavi gave thanks to the God he resented for giving him and his friends a chance at a normal life.

“You have got to visit us this Christmas,” Allen said. With the Innocence still in his body, his appetite remained as ravenous as ever, and he was surrounded by plates of every dish Lenalee made. “Kanda has planted so much that we started selling his crops. You could take home a basket or two of produce.”

“I have seeds too, if you want them,” said Kanda, relishing a plate of soba. In all the time Lenalee has spent with Jeryy, she has learned how to make his favourite food. “Flowers, herbs, and produce.”

“We don’t know the first thing about gardening, but maybe Gwen can help us. They have their own plot of land where they harvest food for The Rose,” Lenalee said. “Maybe I can talk to her when we meet for tea tomorrow.”

Lavi nodded, and the conversation drifted into other domestic matters.

\--

After dinner—where Allen demolished every plate presented to him and still had room for Hadrian the baker’s confections—they retreated to the living room where they enjoyed a nightcap. It was during these moments when the alcohol loosened their tongues—save for Allen’s, who remained a teetotaller because of his alcoholic master—that they talk about their lives as soldiers of the church.

“Brother wants the survivors to gather for the seventh anniversary of the war’s end,” said Lenalee, who stopped drinking after her second glass. “Lavi and I are going. What about you two?”

“I think I want to go,” Allen said, “but I’m still not certain.”

Kanda was nursing his third mug of ale. Even if he rarely—probably never—used his regeneration seal these days, he has built himself quite the tolerance for alcohol these past few years. “I’ll think about it.”

Lavi expected downright refusal from him, but he was pleasantly surprised. Maybe he wanted to see Marie and his old general.

And speaking of generals…

“Any news about General Cross?” Lavi asked.

Allen snorted at the mention of his master and slumped against Kanda’s side. “He’ll show up when he wants to.”

“But Allen,” Lavi said, and he knew that he’ll be threading on thin line, so he chose his words carefully, “did it ever cross—pun unintended—your mind that he might be…gone?”

“You mean if I think he’s dead?” Allen replied. It looked like there wasn’t any need for tiptoeing. “How many times have we thought him dead only for him to turn up at the most unexpected time? My master wouldn’t die even you shoot him in the head—and Apocryphos did, remember?—so no, I know he’s hiding out there somewhere.”

To someone who didn’t know Allen, the vehemence on which he said those statements could be construed as deep hatred for his master, but if that someone knew him well like his three friends did, it could only be interpreted as the staunch belief in the wellbeing of a person he cared about.

“Besides,” Allen continued, “if he knew he was about to die, he’d give Timcanpy back to me. And so far he hasn’t.”

Lavi saw Kanda give Allen’s knee a light squeeze. They all knew how much their friend missed his erstwhile golem.

“Well, it’s getting late,” Lenalee said, “and church starts early tomorrow.”

Kanda scoffed and Lenalee chuckled. “In a small village like this,” she said, “it’s blasphemy not to go to church.”

“Do we really have to?” Kanda said, still scowling. “We’ve had enough of the church to last a lifetime. Two lifetimes, in my case.”

That brought a light laugh out of Allen. Alluding to Kanda’s past life where he had a different lover seemed not to bother Allen.

“What harm could it do? The church has done its worst to us. You could sleep, like you always did back in the Order.”

Kanda’s scowl deepened and the remaining three shared a laugh. They reminisced a bit more, and when the night grew deep, Allen and Kanda decided to return to the inn.

\--

Lavi escorted Kanda and Allen to the inn and Lenalee tagged along. Even though the inn was a stone’s throw away from their home, it was dark and his friends’ first time in the village. Besides, they could use the extra time socialising. It would be months—if not years—again before they could see each other.

“Remember, church tomorrow morning and we have tea with Gwen in the afternoon,” Lenalee said. She wrapped her intricately embroidered shawl tighter around her as the cold wind blew.

“Of course,” Allen said. “Well then, we’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

She gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek and Lavi settled with giving them a warm smile. They muttered goodbyes once more, and as his friends turned their backs on Lavi, he thought he would probably never get used to the sight of Kanda without a sword by his side. But then again, these days, it would be stranger to see Kanda and Allen without the other.

Gwen greeted her guests and ushered them inside, but not without giving Lavi and Lenalee a smile first. And once the door of The Rose and the Thorn closed, Lavi pulled Lenalee close to him and, with an arm around her waist, trudged back home.

“They seem to be doing better compared to last time,” his wife said. She played with the hem of her shawl, which had been a birthday gift from Miranda, who picked up needlework as a hobby after the war. It might not be the best pastime for someone as clumsy and nervous as Miranda, but she needed something to do. There really wasn’t much use for Time Record anymore.

“I mean,” Lenalee continued, “not that they were doing bad, but I think they’re more comfortable with public displays of affection these days. I can’t even remember them holding hands during our wedding. And now they were practically cuddling! On our couch!”

“Hmmm. Do you think it was because there were only the four of us?” Lavi said.

“Maybe. But if I could recall correctly, the most affectionate they’ve been in our presence is when they’d bicker. I wonder what changed.”

“Well,” Lavi said, releasing his hold on Lenalee’s waist and holding her hand instead, “maybe seeing us get married flipped a switch in them.”

“But why our wedding? Why not Marie and Miranda’s?”

“We got married only a year after they did. Maybe something in seeing their friends wed so closely after another?”

Lenalee hummed thoughtfully. “Whatever the reason is, I’m really happy for them. I’m glad they’ve found happiness again.”

Lavi squeezed his wife’s hand. “And I’m glad you’ve found happiness in me.”

She smiled at him.

==

_May 5th, 190x_

_Day 2,588 since the war ended_

_My old comrades visited me and my wife. Nothing much seemed to have changed. AW was still as gluttonous as ever. He was still a beast at poker, and none of us could defeat him, even if he wasn’t cheating._

_KY remained irascible. There was no heat to his harsh words, and even though there was an air of…softness about him now, he was still cranky, and AW was all too ready to fire back insults at him._

_And the best thing that happened during their visit was my wife’s improved disposition. Not that she wasn’t happy with how we are, but having old friends—who are more family to her—in our home made her smile a lot more._

_No additional reports of Innocence and akuma sightings have been reported. Everything appeared to be all right with the world, at least for now._

_Bookman_

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** I was still in the middle of reading Michael J Sullivan's _Riyria_ series when I wrote this. All OCs in this fic were named after characters from that series.


End file.
